Maroon Corridor II

Maroon Corridor: Poopy Brain.

Shenanigan: 9.3.2018

If someone had asked me which are the following feel more pleasant: taking piss or shit, then I'll tell them: shit. I don't really mean anything by it, but I sought to dump my waste in a hole. Don't take that out of context. I just wanted to defecate.

I ran down the stairs and found myself stepping on an echoing corridor. The floor was painted in blood--almost. I didn't care if there was a ghost or what, if I shit on my pants then I wouldn't able to stand the humiliation. I could wash it and try to hide it well. Around the school, yes--in the book club, no. Amelia Holmes would use her extraordinary sense to observe and deduct and answer 5W 1H about my pants. Then tell her fans online, she will.

I can say bye-bye to my harem. Who likes boys with embarrassing shitting history? Except for that one certain Italian girl. But I couldn't say the same for myself.

When I was about to enter the toilet, a yellow sign sitting and stopping me from continuing. I check back which sex's toilet, and indeed it was the gentleman's. So why the hell Amelia Watson's 'keep out boyo!' sign was there, I couldn't care.

I went in.

And immediately got a dart on my forehead.

I almost exploded.

"Oh, ahaha, what's the shenanigan doing here?"

Amelia Holmes turned around, lowering her nerf gun. Her lips sucking the chocolate stick she adored so much. I knew she couldn't live without it, but eating it in the toilet was still…in the gentlemen's at that.

"I see, I see now," Ame studied me, with a smirk she began:

"You were on the third floor, hallucinating in Class 3-3. Then you feel your stomach screamed out to your ass. You excuse yourself but nobody noticed so you left the class to the toilet--but the third-floor toilet's rooms were occupied. You ran downstairs and come here."

I frowned, having no time to listen to more of her deduction reveal--which was pointless. She just loved to do it. I said, "then do deduct that I will shit on the floor if you don't step away."

Ame's eyes widen and her hands rocketed up, "hey, don't denote it on the floor. I don't like my crime scene with faeces."

Crime scene? But we were talking in a toilet. Faeces belonged here. I didn't ask her that. She stepped back and I walked coolly to the farthest stall there was from her--the left's end. But there was no door, in fact, the blue PVC door was laying on the floor. Holed.

Ame was giggling but I ignored her and used the second last door.

I didn't feel any embarrassment that Amelia Holmes saw me at the condition, just anxiety. You couldn't tell what the girl will do, always. Maybe she would blackmail me using this story--but maybe she wouldn't. She called herself as the detective of justice. Anyway, whatever she is doing here must be related to the breached door earlier.

Flushed.

I walked out of the stall and was greeted by her smile.

"You good?"

"No," I said as I washed my hand on the sink.

"Sad. But you came at the right time, the case is about to finish."

Despite my annoyance at her, my curiosity won. "Case? About that door?"

Ame nodded and began a short overview:

"This one door, breached three times in a week, first five days ago, reported on 03:02 P.M., second two days ago reported on 11:25 A.M., and today at 7:12 A.M., no surveillance camera outside, and no suspects. That's what was without my investigation. But I have found suspects--I just need to interrogate them and check the broken door from past incidents then I will reveal who and how."

Amelia Holmes chuckled and gulped the whole stick down. I stared at her, "great for you. I'll go out now."

Ame leapt and punched my shoulder, "why don't you join my adventure?"

"No thanks. I like to limit myself from spending time with you." One of the reasons why other students were scared to be with Ame was because they were scared of dying. There were countless stories and news about Amelia Holmes's predators always tries to stab her. Now, I did say I don't scared of dying but I don't like the idea of dying if that makes sense.

Ame grabbed a red box of pocky out of her skirt's pocket, "that's a bummer. I think you will like this case. It's related to your past deed anyway. But again, many cases happening in White Book now began from your corrupted presidency era."

I stared at her and she opened up her pocky box and then put an invisible stick in her mouth, "thanks for reminding me, I was so sure it was all a dream."

"Thanks!" Ame said without a hint of sarcasm, "I thought you were hallucinating to avoid the reality. You should be more responsible, join me, and destroy what you've made."

I agreed that my presidency era brought many illegal activities happened. But I couldn't tell if I should be responsible for it or not--I never told anyone to continue my evil legacy. I snickered, "are you sure you're not the one hallucinating now? You've been sucking air for a while now."

She laughed, "What are you talking about! I--" She touched her invisible pocky stick.

And then her eyes were of horror. With her small trembling hand, she touched her lips.

From her cyan eyes, blue blood poured out. She sobbed at first. Sobbed and sobbed. Then she "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I planted my hand on each ear. This happened only once in the book club. The evening, she found her pocky box empty, screamed and started crying. The teacher came in panic. I have to explain to them while pointing at her burying herself in my bag. My homework was ruined and Rika, the student in charge of collecting our homework, didn't believe my excuses. She snitched and I have to stand outside the class.

As I said, being with her brought misfortunes. I tried to sneak my way out. It didn't work. Her observation was still intact, she explained to me. Just her deduction…was out of her normal.

Ame hugged me--not affectionately. She heaved me up and twirled down. My face landed on the wet floor. My tongue tasted blood. Ame sat my back as she rapidly punched behind me. I felt being pounded by her mom's daughter.

Then came the rambling:

"Such a useless detective now! Couldn't do anything! No pocky no solvy. No pocky no Lifey! Oh woe is me. I will kill somebody now!"

I shouted, "wait, Ame. Don't kill me! Calm down for a sec--gua!" It was useless. I couldn't calm her if she kept punching me.

"My career! My pride! My channel! I couldn't solve anything! I will go down! I shouldn't make that promise! I don't know! Oh, I don't know--I'm not the great detective--just a great disdain of my family!"

She stopped her punching and her whole soft body laid behind. My back was flooding and cold. That was okay, better than being hit from behind.

But then I felt my hand clacked. Hand couldn't clack. My wrist was kissing something cold and smooth. Silver?

I struggled to turn my head. I wished Ame could get off me…but she couldn't. Because the silver eyes had mine and Ame wrist locked.

A hot whisper blew my ear.

"You're coming down hell with me, Shenanigan."

I sighed, "seriously…"